


of duty and fate

by ivyxwrites



Series: JohnDave Week 2020 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Derse/Prospit Royalty, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anyways, Day 2 - Datenight / AU, Derse and Prospit, Established Relationship, Heir John Egbert, JohnDave Week, JohnDave Week 2020, Knight Dave Strider, M/M, Medievalstuck, but also plot heavy i guess??, by which I mean it's only mentioned briefly and it's not very explicit?, enjoy!!, it's mostly fluff, jdw2, minor depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyxwrites/pseuds/ivyxwrites
Summary: “Am I joke to you, your grace?” Dave teases, red eyes locking with blue ones from across the table. The woman laughs behind a perfectly manicured hand, rolling her eyes fondly at the knight.“You know what I mean, Sir Strider,” Jane answers him, “and nevertheless, you’re not much of an army man yourself. You’re my baby cousin’s knight. Your duty is with him, not with our country.”orSir David Strider is in love with the heir of Prospit, Prince John Egbert, and the prince is in love with him. That's all there really is to say on the matter.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider
Series: JohnDave Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820341
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	of duty and fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! 
> 
> This is my very first time writing for the JohnDave fandom, and although I've been back on hyperfixiating on Homestuck since March this year (quarantine does things to you), it is just now that I've decided to finally upload something for my favorite boys. This is meant for Day 2 of JohnDave Week 2020, from which I chose the prompt "AU" in a sudden turn of events that _everybody_ saw coming. This is really a sort of prequel to a longer story I've been tossing around in my head for some months now, but that I haven't been brave enough to start writing. JohnDave week really did say "be free" and I wrote 10k worth of backstory. 
> 
> A huge thanks to my dearest beta and best of women, Lyssa, who checks all my works, even if they're from a fandom she doesn't necessarily know jackshit about. She's a wonderful human being that deserves the absolute word on any given day. To Paula, who has listened to me ramble about JohnDave AUs for almost EVERY DAY since we met and read through my entire bluepulse week series despite not knowing anything about Jaime Reyes and Bart Allen because she wanted to read my writing, I don't deserve such an amazing friendship like yours. I love you both, thank you for existing. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

“All I’m saying is,” Princess Jaden begins, folding her hands in front of her, prim and proper despite the obvious mud her skirt picked up earlier while she was on her latest adventure, “she’s a witch--and not the nice kind, like me. Just a  _ witch _ . An evil one.” 

  
  


Prince Jonathan snorts next to her, before he leans a little too far back in his chair and loses balance. He flails for a hot second, his voice a high pitched scream, and then a hand comes to steady him from behind. His knight pushes the chair back into the grass, shaking his head. The heir mumbles a quick thank you, grinning sheepishly up at Sir David who is now back to his usual stoic self, standing guard behind him.

  
  


“You ought to be more careful, your highness,” Sir David tells him, back ramrod straight, his left hand resting on the hilt of the sword strapped to his side, “I wouldn’t know how to explain to your father that you’ve died because of a chair.” 

  
  


“My dad would understand,” John answers, choosing to lean his chair onto its back legs  _ again _ . Dave sighs and pushes the future king back to the ground. The prince huffs, crossing his arms across his chest, not unlike a petulant child. 

  
  


“Or his majesty would absolutely have my head for letting you get killed in the most ridiculous of ways,” the Knight dead-pans, resorting to placing a hand on the back of the heir’s seat to prevent any more shenanigans from happening, “but you know, what do I know? I’ve only been working in this castle for six years.” 

  
  


“I don’t think my uncle would lay a finger on you,” across from John, the Duchess of Zon musses, sipping at her tea, “He’s too kind a monarch.” 

  
  


“Jeez, Janey,” her brother, his grace, Jacob of Zon, laughs nervously, “you make it sound as if you would have Sir David’s head on a platter with a snap of your fingers.” 

  
  


Jane shrugs her shoulders, setting her cup back on the garden table the cousins were currently occupying, “If anything were to happen to dear, sweet Jonathan, I believe I’d consider it.” 

  
  


The prince makes a kissy face at his cousin, before crooning, “Oh, Jane, I love you, too.” 

  
  


“Your death would be inconvenient, Jonathan,” she says, smirking mischievously at him, “Don’t mistake my craving for political stability for familial affection.” 

  
  


Once again, John crosses his arms across his chest and pouts, “You’re mean.” 

  
  


Jade rolls her eyes next to her brother affectionately, before she slaps her hands on the table. Jane squeaks, trying to save her cup from rattling to the ground, spilling all the contents to the grass. She manages, even if it’s just a little. 

  
  


“Jaden!” Jane chastises her cousin, "Shucks buster, sugar, what is wrong with you?” 

  
  


Dave bites down on his lip and tries to avoid laughing. John takes a peek up at him, knowing how hysterical the knight tends to find his cousins’ vocabulary and expressions at times, and offers him a complicit wink. The soldier ignores it as best as he can. 

  
  


“We have to focus, Jane!” Jade exclaims, “There’s something amiss with the woman my father is set to marry in months! I don’t trust her!” 

  
  


“Oh my gods, Jade,” John whines, “Just give the topic a rest already. You’ve met Queen Beatrix! She seems like a perfectly nice woman!” 

  
  


The duke, on the other side of prince John, sighs, “I don’t know, old chap. I don’t mean to be disrespectful to Uncle James, but she does strike me as rather distrustful.” 

  
  


“Not you too, Jake!” the heir throws his head back, black hair pressed against Dave’s hand over the backrest, “She’s just a  _ woman _ . Dad is also looking for political stability--both for her kingdom and ours.” 

  
  


Jane sighs, “I have to admit I’m with John on this one,” she says, “Uncle James marrying the Queen of Trolls is a political and strategic move that’s as beneficial for Prospit as it is for the kingdom of Alternia. Even more so for us, considering we’d gain an army that we’ve never really had.” 

  
  


“Am I joke to you, your grace?” Dave teases, red eyes locking with blue ones from across the table. The woman laughs behind a perfectly manicured hand, rolling her eyes fondly at the knight. 

  
  


“You know what I mean, Sir Strider,” Jane answers him, “and nevertheless, you’re not much of an army man yourself. You’re my baby cousin’s knight. Your duty is with him, not with our country.” 

  
  


Dave hums, “Can’t say I disagree, though,” he shrugs, “Prospitian soldiers aren’t unskilled, they’re just soft. Shitty swords don’t help, either.” 

  
  


“Sir David!” Jake squeals, looking scandalized, “I’ll have you know Prospitan bladekind is our biggest export--even the Dersites buy their swords from us! In bulk!” 

  
  


“That’s because they’re made en masse  _ and  _ fast,” Jade pipes up, nibbling at one of Jane’s biscuits, “Kingdoms like Derse or Canalog, up north, have much better sword production. Their blades are always fit to the swordsman’s needs and they don’t break quite as easily, if at all. Our swords are also incredibly cheap.” Then, as an afterthought, she points at her cousin with the hand that’s still holding the biscuit, and says, “Our guns are better, though. Canalog doesn’t even produce any guns, so there’s that.”

  
  


“My, my, princess Jaden, your father should consider allowing you the distinct honor of attending some economic meetings, you seem to know what you’re talking about,” Dave offers Jade a quick wink, to which she responds with a high-pitched giggle, “Derse buys in bulk from you for page training and to protect the newly knighted until a proper sword can be forged for them. Prospitian bladekind is shitty and also too light for me, which is why I never do anything without Caldefwlch.” 

  
  


John snorts, “Oh, well, we wouldn’t want you to lose all that muscle, now would we, sir David?” 

  
  


“I know of a noble man that would be distraught if that were to happen,” Dave smirks down at his charge, earning him a collective groan from around the table, “And I know that everyone else here knows him, too.” 

  
  


The prince sputters something unintelligible, face red. Dave feels warmth spread across his chest at the sight. 

  
  


“Don’t be disgusting during cousin time,” Jade whines, “you promised you’d be well-behaved if we let you stay.” 

  
  


“I literally can’t leave John’s side,” Dave counters, shrugging his shoulders, “Those were your father’s order, I’m not about to disregard orders.” 

  
  


Jake breaks the cookie on his plate and throws one half of it to Dave. The pastry bounces off his chest and to the floor, and Strider looks on unimpressed, “When have you ever followed orders, old chap?” the duke comments, grinning, “All things considered, you’re the biggest rule breaker in this castle.” 

  
  


“I disagree,” the knight answers, “I think that would be the prince and princess of Prospit.” 

  
  


“Lies!” Jade exclaims, “Slander!” 

  
  


“Our head knight would like to state a formal claim against you both,” Dave continues, half-heartedly, “Also, you left Karkat locked in your room this morning so he wouldn’t follow you into the woods--he’s still angry by the way.” 

  
  


Jade tries not to laugh, but it’s barely impossible, so she does. Her cousins and brother shake their heads smiling fondly at the princess, and John comments that he should’ve known Jaden hadn’t had real permission to go into the backwoods of the castle, she never does. The witch of Prospit says that no harm was done, except for the little trail of mud on her dress, and Karkat being a little grumpy, but both things are fixable. 

  
  


Previous political discussions forgotten, the cousins chatter among themselves pleasantly, expressing how excited they were for the Zon gala that’s coming up in a few weeks. Duchess Jane tells them she’s already decided on a menu, which her brother proceeds to debunk by saying their father had actually made the decision since Jane couldn’t do it herself. The woman tries to hit her brother with her hand fan and Jake calls for fisticuffs. 

  
  


“Whoa, whoa,” Dave never tries to get in between the Duke and his ‘punch first, ask questions later’ nature, but he draws the line at sibling brawling. Not only would it be unfortunate to watch Jacob get his ass handed to him, but it’s also way above his pay grade. “Now, calm down, the two of you, we don’t want to call Sir Makara over, do we?” 

  
  


John shudders at the thought, nose scrunching up in distaste, “Why haven’t you guys asked Uncle Jacob to change your personal guard? That guy gives me the creeps.” 

  
  


“Father thinks he’s valuable,” Jane shrugs, “although I have to admit Jake’s not his biggest fan, either.” 

  
  


“He stares off into space too long and too often for a sane man,” Jake refutes, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair, “I don’t trust him. I’ve told Father as much, but he seems adamant about keeping him.” 

  
  


“He’s a skilled fighter,” Dave points out, “Could beat me on any day, if he wanted to. I think he’s good enough protection for you both.” 

  
  


“A vote of confidence by Sir Strider himself,” the duchess smiles around the rim of her teacup, blue eyes mischievous as she prepares for her joke, “Nevermind that, Jake, we might need to fight our father a little bit more fervently about letting us swap to Sir Zahhak.” 

  
  


The knight sighs, bringing a hand up to his chest in mock-offense, “Why, your grace, I’d never have taken you for a cruel woman.” 

  
  


“You must’ve been too busy making goo-goo eyes at my cousin to notice,” ah, and there’s the punchline, “Cause I’ve always had a bit of a streak.” 

  
  


John squeaks, crossing his arms across his chest, “Don’t bring me into this!” 

  
  


“Oh, Johnny,” Jake grins, leaning over to pat his cousin’s shoulder in a sign of comfort, “I’m afraid Sir David brought you into it a long time ago.” 

  
  


As the rest of the Egbert house erupts into laughter, John’s ears and the tip of his nose burn a bright red. Dave can’t help it when he laughs along with the royals, feeling relaxed and in good company, but he can’t shake the feeling that they’re all being watched. 

  
  


// 

  
  


“Oh, Sir Strider,” the King’s voice stops him in the hallway, as Dave is making his usual round in the castle before heading to bed, “Up so late still?” 

  
  


The knight offers his monarch a bow, “Can’t very well rest with our prince’s life on the line, can I?” 

  
  


“I suppose not,” James’ eyes are a kind blue, the same as his son’s, “I don’t think I’ve been able to sleep very well since the last time he was hurt.” 

  
  


Ah, Dave can relate. It had been the reason the king had ordered him, personally, to keep a tighter schedule around John. He wasn’t lying when he’d told Princess Jaden that he had direct instructions to shadow her brother at all times. A couple of weeks ago, John had asked Dave to leave him to think alone in his mother’s gardens, to which the knight had dutifully complied without so much as a question. He had stayed close-by, anyways, perched on one of the towers that looked down on the late Queen’s gardens, and his distance had cost him an injured John. 

  
  


The prince wasn’t useless or untrained. The people of Prospit weren’t warriors, and their swords were definitely subpar to Derse’s, but King James had taught his children to defend themselves at a young age. John was killer with a hammer, while his sister had her magic (and her guns, at times). Nevertheless, the heir hadn’t had his weapon at hand, thinking he had been safe in the confines of their royal home. His reflexes had been what had made the difference between an arrow lodged in his throat and an arrow to his shoulder. 

  
  


They hadn’t found the culprit, and the markings on the weapon used to attack the prince were unlike whatever the people of Prospit or Derse had ever seen. The king had sent word to further kingdoms, asking if they had seen the icons on the arrow before, but none of the letters had come back with any answers. After John was fit to leave the medical wing, King James had spoken to Dave about staying closer to his son. 

  
  


Dave hadn’t needed to be told twice. 

  
  


“I won’t let anything happen to him, your majesty,” Dave says, “As long as I am alive and by his side, I’ll do everything in my power to keep him safe.” 

  
  


The King smiles, a fond look in his eyes that Dave can’t quite place. James continues his path towards his chambers, placing a warm hand on the younger man’s shoulders as he passes him in the hallway. Dave has grown accustomed to the familiarity, but it doesn’t mean it’s not weird for him. Displays of physical affection were rare in his family, but they seemed to be ever present in the Egbert home very regularly.

  
  


“I know you will, Sir David,” the monarch whispers to him, voice confident, “I would never doubt that.” 

  
  


“Thank you, your majesty,” Dave bows his head to the man, and then adds, “Have you gotten word from the king of Canalog?” 

  
  


“Their guess is as good as ours,” King James sighs, “but King Allen has promised me they’ll investigate further. He’s also assured me my son has a safe haven with them, but I’m not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of sending him away.” 

  
  


“I understand,” the knight nods, “If you ever did choose to send Prince Jonathan away, rest easy, your majesty, that I’d follow him to the ends of the world.” 

  
  


With one last nod, the two men bid farewell, each leaving to opposite sides of the castle. The king’s quarters were far away from his children’s rooms (something that had always struck him as odd, given their occupants’ closeness) and Dave had already made sure everything was secure and safe. His fellow knights had taken their places by windows, doors and some of the secret entrances, just in case, and Sir Strider really needed to learn to relax sometimes. 

  
  


But he couldn’t. Not with John’s life hanging by a thread like this. 

  
  


Realistically, Dave had been knighted as part of the royal guard because of his quick reflexes and superior fighting skills (courtesy of many beat-downs provided by his brother, in Derse), but he was still frightened that it might soon prove to not be enough. That day at the late queen’s gardens had made him skittish and paranoid. Dave was certain he would have stuck by John’s side more closely even if the king hadn’t ordered him to--his prince was one thing the knight wasn’t prepared to lose. 

  
  


“Took you long enough tonight,” John chastises him as soon as he’s stepping into his chambers, “What was it this time? Were the curtains threatening you?” 

  
  


Dave rolls his eyes, bringing a hand up to the clips keeping his cape in place to unclasp them from their place, “You laugh now, my prince, but I know you’d rather not have another arrow to the shoulder.” 

  
  


Already decked in his night clothes, the prince rubs absentmindedly at the place where the scar had been healed by his cousin’s brand of magic. The injury had been deep, but the duchess had made sure it was patched up as soon as she arrived at the castle. The city of Zon was thankfully only 20 odd minutes away from Prospit’s capital, where the royal home stood, so Jane and Jake hadn’t been too far away.

  
  


The cousins’ visits had become more frequent after it. Hence that evening spent in the gardens. 

  
  


“Anyways,” John says, avoiding the topic altogether, and moving to retrieve something from his night table, “Dame Peregrine delivered a letter for you--from Derse.” 

  
  


“Any good news?” Dave asks, as he sets down his cape neatly folded on the desk chair nearby, “I think I asked Rose how plans for her wedding to the prince of Canalog were going.” 

  
  


“I haven’t read it,” the heir answers, coming to stand next to Dave as the knight peers out the window to check the grounds below, “It’s written in Diedrick’s handwriting.” 

  
  


That freezes Dave right up, if only for a second, but even if he tries to play off his abrupt pause on his way to closing the window he’d been inspecting as smooth, John still notices it. Like he always notices everything else about him. 

  
  


A warm hand falls on his upper arm, pulling him before Dave can move to the next window. There’s not much the knight can do about the interruption, anyways (damn the heir’s freakish strength!), so the blonde man turns to the prince in defeat. He is met with clear blue eyes and the smallest of wrinkles between two black eyebrows. 

  
  


“You must return to Derse eventually,” John tells him, his hand sliding up his shoulder to rest on the side of his neck, “I know it scares you, but you have duties there, too, and--”

  
  


“My duty is with you.” 

  
  


The worry lines on John’s face fall, swapped out for a soft, vulnerable look that makes the butterflies in Dave’s stomach flutter aimlessly like idiots. Sometimes he wishes it would stop. 

  
  


“Your family misses you,” the prince continues, “and your people  _ need _ you. There is unrest in Derse, and having the Duke of Lúa back home might help defuse the situation long enough to figure out a strategy.” 

  
  


“I can’t go back,” Dave says, his hand wrapping around John’s on his neck, “Rose said it herself--she saw in her vision that I had to be in Prospit or have both kingdoms fall. We all have our duty to fulfill, John. Mine is here. With you.” 

  
  


“And I’ve never been more grateful,” John sighs, “whatever wacky nonsense goes on in our sisters’ heads brought you to me. I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” 

  
  


“Then why do you insist that I must leave you?” 

  
  


“I’ve been training my whole life to become the monarch of this country,” the heir says, eyes looking away, “I know what civil unrest can mean for a kingdom. Derse has been a ticking time bomb ever since it lost Ciaróg to The Darkness, and that was more than twenty years ago. Whatever is hiding in Ciaróg is bad enough to scare even the toughest dersite. They need strong leadership now more than ever. They’ve needed it for a while.” 

  
  


“They have Dirk for that, my prince.” Dave’s voice is barely above a whisper as he shuffles closer to the other man, the tip of his boots brushing against the other’s bare feet. 

  
  


“Don’t call me that when we’re alone,” John rolls his eyes fondly, “and stop trying to deflect, right now! I’m trying to convince you of something!” 

  
  


Dave laughs, leaning forward until their noses are brushing, and he rubs the tip of his (cold, very cold) against John’s, “Maybe I don’t want to be convinced.” 

  
  


“Yes, I can see that.” 

  
  


“So? Can we drop it?” 

  
  


John hums, warm breath ghosting over Dave’s lips. The windows rattle in their frames, the breeze coming to wrap around the knight’s shoulders in an embrace. 

  
  


“Sleep with me tonight?” John asks, “And maybe read Dirk’s letter tomorrow and consider it for yourself-- _ then _ I’ll drop the subject.” 

  
  


“You drive a hard bargain, Egbert,” the knight smiles, before taking a step back and breaking whatever moment they’ve had between them, “But you know very well I can’t sleep. I come to your chambers to protect you, like I always have,” (‘Oh, you little liar.’) “I’ll read my brother’s letter tomorrow, but I don’t want to hear more about this anymore.” 

  
  


John whines at the loss of warmth, his arms coming to wrap around his own arms to keep it from leaving. The windows rattle again, this time a little more forcefully, and Dave tells himself not to be intimidated by the prince’s breeze. 

  
  


“It’s not that I want you to leave, Dave, gods,” the heir says, “but maybe some things are bigger than you and I.” 

  
  


“Nothing is bigger than you, my prince,” Dave counters, going back to his task of checking the grounds outside for any possible enemies coming to attack John, “And if I leave, they’d give Karkat a double protection whammy until they can find a knight capable enough to take care of you, and he’ll hate me forever.” 

  
  


“Oh, he can deal,” John answers, but there’s no real fire to his words, “Whatever, I’m heading to bed.” 

  
  


“As you should’ve about an hour ago,” the knight points out, closing the next set of windows after inspecting the outside one more time, “Remember you have breakfast with your father and Queen Beatrix early tomorrow morning.” 

  
  


“And then three hours worth of diplomatic shenanigans,” the heir turns on his heels, waving a hand in the air as if the ‘diplomatic shenanigans’ (as he had called them) weren’t all that important, “I know, Dave--gosh, you’re my knight, not my agenda.” 

  
  


“I like to think I can be multi-useful.” 

  
  


The prince makes an exaggerated noise of distress in the back of his throat as he shuffles back to his bed, pulling at the covers and sliding underneath. Dave busies himself with checking the secret entrances to the room, hitting the fake walls with the hilt of his sword to make sure they can’t open from the other side. He’s marked them all for John to remember, an imperceptible scratch like lightning carved into the corner of every secret door and hatch so the prince wouldn’t forget in case he ever needed to get out. 

  
  


“Will you actually read Dirk’s letter tomorrow?” John asks, his voice soft and unsure. 

  
  


Dave takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes because he knows John can’t see him, “I’ll read it as soon as we meet up with your sister and Karkat tomorrow morning, okay?” 

  
  


“You promise?” 

  
  


The look on John’s face when Dave turns around to face him is too much. Without so much as a word, the knight walks over to the prince’s bed, kneeling by his side when he’s there. Blue eyes stare at him with a tension he’s learned to love and hate over the years, and Dave leans forward to kiss his lips. 

  
  


The contact is fleeting, but sweet. It’s nothing more than a brush of lips, their breaths mingling in the middle, and the cold of John’s fingertips pressed to his jawline. Dave hums pleasantly as he leans away, his boots uncomfortable in this position, and he nods. 

  
  


“Promise.” 

  
  


// 

  
  


He stays the whole night looking over John and his room. Dave’s eyes aren’t fabulous, he’s known that since he was a kid. Their odd pigmentation not only made him target of many cruel taunts when he was growing up in the castle (and god, dersites really were fearless, bullying the king’s son), but they also were pretty much shit when it came to being out in the sun or seeing right in the night. Karkat had once theorized that his eyes were better fit for nighttime, like his, but that hypothesis had been ruled out many years ago, as Dave really couldn’t see for shit. 

  
  


The rest of his senses are good enough to pick up his eyes’ slack. Unlike Jake, whose hearing has been compromised over years of handling guns, Dave was pretty damn good at noticing any sound that’s out of the ordinary. 

  
  


The night was calm, anyways. It wasn’t all that good for his nerves. 

  
  


When the sun rises (even if Dave can’t see it rise behind closed windows), John’s maid, Terezi, comes to wake him from his slumber. Pyrope passes the knight with an upturned nose, teasing Strider about his smell, and then the woman is off to help the prince get into his usual attire. John and his maid have an interesting dynamic, making mornings like these interesting to watch. 

  
  


“I swear on Skaia, Pyrope,” John’s voice is groggy with sleep, his face contorted in a frown, “If you pinch me one more time, I’ll have you kicked out of this palace.” 

  
  


Threatened, the woman does it again before descending into a fit of laughter. Dave tries to swallow back his own chuckle when John squeals in anger, his face red, but finds sleep and exhaustion only prove to make him more sincere. No matter how many times this exact scene plays out in the prince’s room, Terezi has lived in this castle for twice the time Dave himself had. 

  
  


“Alright, already, your highness,” Dave finally steps in, grabbing his cape from the chair he had left it folded in last night and swinging it over his shoulders, “Time to hit the dining room.” 

  
  


“You should hit the showers instead, Sir Cool Kid!” Terezi squeals, poking Dave’s chest with one of her sharp nails, “Your smell is disgraceful!” 

  
  


John snorts, adjusting the golden embroidery on his cuffs like a fussy child that doesn’t want to dress up--something he undeniably is. Dave rolls his eyes. 

  
  


“Of course, Lady Pyrope,” Dave bows, exaggeratedly, “I’ll just deliver the package to the dining room so he can suffer through some more family time and when I know he’s well-guarded in there, I’ll go take my shower.” 

  
  


“The dining room isn’t even that far away,” John muses, “I can meet with Jade and Sir Vantas by her room and go from there.” 

  
  


“Nope,” Dave shakes his head, “I’m taking you to the dining room--stop being stubborn about it.” 

  
  


The prince huffs out, annoyed, but he still moves towards the front-door, “I’m not being stubborn about it,” he explains, grabbing the golden cloak he always wears for adventures with his sister, “I’m just saying--if you want a shower, you can get it.” 

  
  


Before Dave can answer, Terezi bumps into one of John’s yesterday shoes. She curses under her breath about what a little brat he is, before she reaches him by the door, “I ought to strangle you for being such a little shit,  _ your highness _ .” 

  
  


John laughs, high and bubbly, and Dave’s chest feels warm, “I’ll make sure to tell my father you said so.” 

  
  


The knight follows the bickering pair out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind him. There’s one of his comrades standing guard outside the door, and he orders them to make sure to keep an eye of the people coming and going through the day. The lower classed knight bows in response, telling Dave they’ll take care of it. 

  
  


“Come on, slowpoke,” John’s voice calls out to him from halfway down the hallway, Terezi already rounding a corner, her baton clicking against the walls and floors as she makes her way back to the maid chambers, “I’ll be late to breakfast if you don’t hurry.” 

  
  


When they arrive at the dining room, Jade and John set up a water prank for their father by the door. The king of Prospit hasn’t arrived, but Queen Beatrix sits cross-legged at her usual chair, watching the kids prepare their water filled bucket at the top of the golden entrance. She seems amused, although slightly confused, and the way she looks at John makes Dave feel threatened somehow. 

  
  


“Rowdy kids, aren’t they?” the queen speaks, her nails clicking against the crystal of the glass she’s loosely holding. It takes Dave a while to realize he’s being addressed. 

  
  


“Ah, yes, your majesty,” he answers, smirking as Karkat keeps trying to convince Jade to stop the shenanigans at once, “They learned it from their father, however. I think he keeps falling into these traps simply to make them happy.” 

  
  


“King James does seem to have a soft spot for his children, doesn’t he?” 

  
  


“They’re his pride and joy,” Dave nods, “He’s a proud monarch, but an even prouder father.” 

  
  


“I can see that,” the woman hums, and then straightens up in her seat, anticipating the scene about to unfold, as footsteps echo in the hall, “Here he comes.” 

  
  


When the king walks into the room, the bucket predictably falls on him, soaking him to the bone. Dame Peregrine looks aghast at the sudden turn of events, even if she has presided (and, sometimes taken part of) in the Egbert family antics for as long as the children were old enough to wreak havoc in the castle. The woman stretches an arm to grab the bucket, revealing an easy smile on the king’s face. John and Jade burst into a fit of laughter, and Karkat bows so low in apology that his nose is touching the floor. 

  
  


Dave laughs, because he knows he’s allowed to, and the king simply lunges forward to try and catch his children as they scream for him to get away. The knight takes a step away from the zone of collision when John tries to hide behind him, and the prince makes a noise of distress, coupled with an accusation of betrayal. 

  
  


The ordeal carries on for one more minute, when King James finally manages to catch his daughter in a tight hug. The witch squeals in her father’s arms, saying it was unfair that the breeze always helped John faster instead of her, which John replies to by saying the breeze does whatever the breeze wants to do. Once he finds that his daughter is properly damp and uncomfortable, King James asks the breeze kindly to dry them up. 

  
  


The breeze complies, like it always does for their father, and Jade giggles as the wind hugs her shoulders and plays with her hair. The king thanks the breeze when they’re both dry, and Dave feels the soft touch of the wind wraps around his wrists, tussles with the hair in the back of his head and presses what he can only describe as a kiss to his temple. He catches John’s smile from across the room, and knows the breeze will soon favor him more than his father. 

  
  


The royals sit around the table for breakfast, and Dave excuses himself to take that shower in the barracks. Dame Peregrine asks him if he received the letter she left for him with Prince Jonathan, and Dave tells her he’ll be reading it shortly. He bows one last time before he leaves the dining room. 

  
  


True to his word, Sir Strider pulls his brother’s letter from his breast pocket, where he had tucked it the night before. He reads while he cruises the halls, waving hello to the other knights and maids working in the castle. He bumps into Terezi again when he’s getting closer to the lower rooms, but doesn’t stop to chat as his focus is completely on the letter. 

  
  


Dirk, like John, is trying to get him to go back to Derse, specifically to Lúa, so that he can lead the city. Rose will be off to Canalog come autumn, married to the prince in an attempt to strengthen their ties to the foreign kingdom, and bring back the dersites that had fled to the city of lightning after Ciaróg had fallen. Dave thinks bringing the Duke of Ciaróg back from his hiding place in Canalog was a great idea, he just didn’t understand why he’d have to go back, too. 

  
  


He folds the letter back into the envelope and tucks it in the box he keeps underneath his bed at the barracks. 

  
  


His shower is quick and efficient. Dave doesn’t like spending time apart from John after he’d been almost killed, so now he’s too jittery, buzzing with pent-up energy that’s begging him to make his way back to the dining room. The knight chooses a lighter ensemble for the day, as he’s scheduled to walk with Jade and Karkat in the gardens while John attends to political matters in the king’s study, and couples it with one of his shorter cloaks so he doesn’t gather mud on it. The witch of Prospit may have no problem with it, but Dave sure as hell does. 

  
  


Once back in the dining room, he notices Jade’s furrowed brow as she’s finishing up her dessert, something so unlike the princess that it strikes Dave as odd. On her plate sits a perfectly fluffy lemon cake, which only makes matters much more confusing. 

  
  


Sidling up next to Karkat, he leans to the side and whispers, “What did I miss?” 

  
  


“Her majesty, Queen Beatrix, told the princess she’d like to join us on our adventure,” Karkat mutters, looking less than thrilled himself, “King James thought it would be a fantastic idea.” 

  
  


Vantas and his family, among others around the castle, had fled from the Troll Kingdom after the Darkness had overtaken the land. Unlike the city of Ciaróg in Derse, that had remained shrouded in black smoke for over nineteen years after the initial attack, Alternia had been given back to trollkind months after the initial siege had taken place. The citizens that had stayed to fight had been slaughtered, while the rest of them had taken residence in other kingdoms, distrustful of their queen after she’d appeared again, unscathed, and with half her population wiped out. 

  
  


Karkat’s father, Acheros Vantas, had led most of the migrating trolls out of Alternia. He was part of King James’ close circle of advisors nowadays, and he distrusted the queen more so than anyone in the castle. His distrust extended to Karkat himself, who was as passionate about his displeasure as the princess under his charge was. 

  
  


“Ought to be interesting,” Dave muses, smiling when John looks his way, “I bet you five boons that Jade ends up ditching her.” 

  
  


“I bet you ten that the queen won’t allow it.” 

  
  


As inconspicuous as possible, the two knights shake hands in the middle. King James catches them in the act, anyway. 

  
  


// 

  
  


Eventually, Dave has to pay Karkat. 

  
  


Jade had been trying to leave the older woman behind for over two hours already, but Queen Beatrix seemed well versed in the act of avoidance, and so squashed all her futile attempts without even breaking a sweat. 

  
  


They’ve migrated to the woods behind the castle, Becquerel following dutifully behind his owner as the princess made her way through the bushes and the thick tree branches. The queen had not tried to make any conversation, content to walk at her own graceful pace behind Jade and a few steps in front of both Karkat and Dave. Strider had to admit the Queen of Trolls was beautiful, with her black hair and fuschia lips, but he still had his reservations. 

  
  


“Princess!” Karkat exclaims after receiving his sweet loot from Dave’s hands, noticing Jade’s attempt at climbing a tree, “Please, don’t do that! Last time you tried to climb a tree, one of the branches snapped and you broke a leg. My father will have my head if I let that happen again.” 

  
  


Jade laughs, pushing herself up into one of the lower branches with Becquerel’s help, “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Karkitty,” she giggles, “come! Join me!” 

  
  


If this was another one of Jaden’s attempts at leaving the queen eating her dust, it didn’t seem to work. After a moment of contemplation at the foot of the thick tree, the woman grabs onto the lower branch that Jade has just vacated, and pulls herself up with no help whatsoever. Dave stares in awe as the Queen of Trolls hoists herself up past the princess and sits on the next branch comfortably, extending her arm towards her soon to be step-daughter. 

  
  


“Need some help?” 

  
  


Dave thinks Queen Beatrix was attempting to do some bonding with the girl, but knowing the witch she’ll take it as just the opposite. As Jade gapes at the extended hand given to her, however, and Karkat tries not to whine about how her majesty shouldn’t be condoning this behavior, the wind moves in a way that announces John’s arrival. 

  
  


“Hell--oh?” comes John’s confused mumble, as soon as he sees the queen up in the tree, “I see you’re enjoying your walk, your majesty.” 

  
  


The woman nods, a smile on her lips, and Dave thinks it looks a little fake, but he’s not Jade so he won’t scream about it, “Your sister sure makes things interesting.” 

  
  


“That she does,” the prince laughs, his feet still not quite touching the ground, “Lord Acheros dismissed our meeting early so--” 

  
  


There’s a sudden change in the air, an almost imperceptible noise alerting both the knights and Becquerel of a threat. The wolf growls at a darker spot hidden in the foliage of the trees, and Karkat and Dave unsheath their swords. The queen seems alert, too, moving from one branch to the next and grabbing Jade by the waist before she brings them both down. The princess only makes a small noise of discomfort, but quiets down when Karkat steps in front of the two women. Without being asked, John takes a step to the left to hide behind Dave. 

  
  


Nothing happens for three, painstakingly long minutes. Becquerel continues to growl at whatever is beyond those trees, and the two knights grip their weapons tightly. John doesn’t have anything to protect himself with, like the last time, despite Dave pleading with him to carry his mallet around more often, but the knight is glad the prince is behind him. 

  
  


Before Dave can react, however, there’s a noise coming from behind him, the entire attack changing suddenly, and Strider thinks this is it. This stupid slip is about to cost him his prince, his best friend, the love of his life, he can’t believe he let this happen, he’s such an-- 

  
  


“No you  _ don’t _ ,” the queen all but  _ growls _ at the creature shrouded in darkness that’s jumped from a tree behind John and his knight to attack the prince. Dave’s first instinct is to grab John by the waist, flash stepping so that whatever blow comes, hits Strider first, but the attack never comes. 

  
  


When Dave’s eyes re-adjust themselves to the light seeping in through the canopy, there’s a small, unassuming creature with sharp teeth pinned against a tree trunk by a  _ trident _ of all fucking things. The thing squeals and screams in pain, trying to get their claw-like hands wrapped around one of the prongs and failing. The sounds of death slowly die out and Dave turns around to stare at the queen, who’s as impassive as ever in her place right next to Karkat. 

  
  


Queen Beatrix had just saved the prince. 

  
  


// 

  
  


The next few days, John isn’t allowed anywhere outside that isn’t his sister’s greenhouse, and even then, he’s accompanied by a party of six guards. Two of them courtesy of Queen Beatrix herself, three handpicked by Dave, and Strider himself. 

  
  


His father and he have a huge fight about the Gala in Zon. John says that he’s never missed a single ball at his cousins’ home and James counters that it really doesn’t matter to him. Jade is still too shell-shocked about the whole affair to try to back-up either of her family members, to which Karkat proposes she should rest in her chambers for the day. 

  
  


Queen Beatrix’s reception in the castle becomes actually positive instead of lowkey hostile. Maids start helping her everyday at her room, the chefs pile the most food on her plate, and even Dave himself has to admit he’s grown more fond of her. There’s still something there that doesn’t add up (the trident, being one of those) but he’s too high on John being alive that he can’t think past “she saved him” every day he wakes up. 

  
  


Eventually, John manages to convince the king to allow him the trip to Zon. It’s only a 20 minute drive, which is good, but the king still insists on driving with his children to his brother’s home. It’s a tight fit in the carriage, so Dave and Karkat ride their horses at a respectable distance. Lord Acheros leads the party next to Sir Damijan, the queen’s personal knight. Behind Dave, five other knights keep their distance. 

  
  


They make it to Zon a little before night falls, and are welcomed by Sir Gamzee himself, who seems a little taken aback by the sight of Damijan when he opens the door. Karkat shrugs his shoulders when Dave asks, but they don’t have time to gossip about it when their charges are taking each by the hand and tugging them to their respective rooms. 

  
  


“Geez, John,” Dave huffs, rearranging his cape where it almost fell off his shoulders in the tussle, “Give a man a warning next time, why don’t ya?” 

  
  


“I brought something for you!” the prince exclaims, excited, lunging for his suitcase as soon as Sir Equius has handed it to him, “I want you to wear it tonight--well, your sister does, but it’s all the same.” 

  
  


“My sister?” Dave asks, arching an eyebrow as he made his way closer to the bed, where John was pulling article after article of clothing, “John, what did you do?” 

  
  


“Nothing--aha!” John yells, triumphantly, as he produces a purple and silver royal jacket from his suitcase. Dave would like a refund on his life. 

  
  


“No,” he says simply, and turns away to walk out the door.

  
  


The heir won’t let him, running after him and hopping on his shoulders before the knight can leave the room. Dave tries not to scream in surprise, but he does have to let out a mumbled out curse before either of them hit the ground. His right arm comes to wrap around John’s leg secured around his waist, and Strider locks the door to make sure no one walks in on this. 

  
  


“What is wrong with you, you little asshole?”

  
  


John laughs in his ear, and the sound shouldn’t make Dave’s heart flutter so much in his chest, “Just wear it, Dave!” 

  
  


“No,” Dave repeats, “I’m here as your knight, not as a duke. Why do you even have that?” 

  
  


“Rose sent it to me,” the prince explains, as if that makes any sense at all, “She said Kanaya has a bunch of outfits she’s made for you and she wants to see you in at least one of them.” 

  
  


“See me?” Dave’s stomach falls. 

  
  


“Jake is a pining idiot,” John shrugs, “so he invited King Diedrick, and Jane took it upon herself to invite the rest of your family.” 

  
  


“And you were planning on telling me this, when exactly?” 

  
  


The prince has the decency to look embarrassed about being caught in such an obvious plan, and he buries his nose in Dave’s neck to try and distract him. It works, partially, but Dave’s having none of that. The knight walks back to the bed, where he leans back until he’s falling on the mattress and crushing the heir under his weight. The windows rattle and burst open when John laughs, and the breeze tries to pull Dave up from his place on the prince’s chest. 

  
  


“Da-ve!” John wheezes, and the wind whips the knights cape around until it’s tangled around his face, “Get off, you boar!” 

  
  


With his vision impaired more so than it usually is, Dave finally lets himself be carried by the breeze, and he tumbles to the ground in a mess of long limbs and red clothes. John takes in a deep breath, laughing when the wind kisses his cheeks and ruffles his hair, before it helps Dave up from his butt and arranges his hair to the best of its ability. Dave thanks it. 

  
  


“Okay, alright, game’s over,” the knight says after dusting himself a little for show, “I’m not wearing it.”

  
  


John rolls his eyes, “Just for tonight, Dave?” 

  
  


They stare at each other for a long time. The back of Dave’s eyes burn like a bitch the longer he doesn’t blink, but he’s determined to win this one. John, however, doesn’t have an eyesight impairment that keeps him from enjoying the goddamn light, so eventually, the prince wins when Dave has to close his eyes tightly. 

  
  


“C’mon!” the prince says, standing on the bed, still wearing his shoes, which Dave thinks it’s absolutely barbaric, “Don’t go as my knight tonight--I want you to go as my date.” 

  
  


The last part is added as more of a whisper, and Dave can’t open his eyes right now after their staring contest, but if he could, they’d be wide in surprise. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that he hopes translates into “I’m fucking pumped about what you just said” but only comes out as a dying cat. It’s a good thing John knows him this well, because he takes it the right way. 

  
  


“Alright!” John is probably pumping his fist in the air like the nerd he is, Dave knows that much even if he’s not looking at him, “Kanaya sent explicit instructions to wear it with your Derse cloak, the fancy one, so I took the liberty of bringing it along.” 

  
  


“My cloak hasn’t fit me in years, John,” the knight grumbles, finally peeking an eye open to catch his prince sitting down on the bed to continue his search through the mess of his suitcase, “I was 13 the last time you saw me on that hideous purple thing.” 

  
  


“Purple is a very regal color,” John muses, without paying much attention, too excited about his search, “It fits you well.” 

  
  


“Red fits me well,” Dave answers, grabbing his knight cape in his fingers and flunging it around unceremoniously, “I look goddamn fantastic in red.” 

  
  


“Yeah, yeah,” the prince answers, and pulls a folded up purple fabric from the bottom of his suitcase. Unlike the rest of his clothes, the items he had packed for Dave seemed to be mostly intact, if only a little ruffles from the travelling, but it was obvious he had taken care of them. 

  
  


Strider takes in a deep breath, and the butterflies bump against his ribcage like they always do. 

  
  


“I had Jade tweak it a little,” John confesses, extending the cloak in his hands so that Dave could see it, “It still has silver on purple, but I had her add your captain stripes in Prospitian gold so that you could still be a proud member of our forces. It should also fit you now, at nineteen.” 

  
  


The cloak looks better than it did the day Dave arrived at the Egbert’s castle. For starters, it’s not torn at the bottom and all traces of blood (not his) had been wiped out. He hadn’t seen this since he came to Prospit, but it definitely looked very different. It reminded him of the cloak Dirk used to wear. Regal, and proud. Dave wondered if it would fit him the same. 

  
  


“Let’s get you ready, how about that?” 

  
  


Dave sighs through his nose, and nods. There’s not much else he can do. 

  
  


// 

  
  


Dave has to admit it: Kanaya has only gotten better over the years. 

  
  


She was already an excellent seamstress when he’d left Derse all those years ago, but she’d definitely kept learning in his absence. The suit was royal, but unlike his old stuffy outfits as a kid, this one was comfortable. It looked very different from the golden ensemble John always wore to social functions, in that it was less ornate and less extravagant. Dave liked it. He liked it even better with his old dersite cloak draped over his shoulders elegantly. 

  
  


He liked it even more when John had stepped next to him in the mirror, donning his own gold and bronze outfit. They looked good together. They always did. 

  
  


“Sir Strider!” comes Jake’s boisterous greeting when they finally make it to the ballroom, “Look at you, old chap! You’re looking like a very smart fella.” 

  
  


“Why, thank you, your grace,” Dave simply bows his head, as opposed to the full bow he’d give the duke of Zon under different circumstances--today, they were of the same title, “You’re looking very sharp yourself. I’m sure my brother will appreciate it.” 

  
  


That makes Jake blush to the tip of his ears, as his cousins and sister laugh about him behind their hands. Dave offers the other man a bright smile, casual and confident, until the announcer bellows from above. 

  
  


“Presenting,” the tiny man at the entrance calls, “King Diedrick Lalonde of Derse, and his sisters, Princess Roxanne Annette Lalonde and Duchess of Lúa, Rosalind Marie Lalonde.” 

  
  


His siblings file into the room, wearing variations of the same outfit he’s wearing, and the crowd of Prospitians clap at their entrance. Dirk’s travel cloak is swept off his shoulders by an overeager staff member, and the ladies’ fur coats follow suit. Behind Rose, Lady Kanaya Maryam re-arranges the transparent cloak she’s added to his twin sister’s shoulders. 

  
  


“Dersites do pack a mean punch, don’t they?” Jake mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the king still at the top of the stairs. Jane slaps him with a hand fan and he turns to her, pouting, “What?” 

  
  


“If you don’t dance with him tonight,” Jane begins, “I’ll make sure father never lets you near the hunting grounds ever again.” 

  
  


The duke sighs, throwing his head back in frustration, “I can’t very well ask the King of Derse to dance now, can I, sister dearest? The scandal that that would create! The sheer idiocy it would take for a man like myself to--” 

  
  


“A man like yourself?” Dirk’s voice interrupts, and Dave has to give it to the man, he’s gotten a lot better at this flash-step thing over the six years they haven’t seen each other, “What is our topic of conversation, currently?” 

  
  


“Social conventionalities and how Jake’s a sucker for them, apparently,” John throws out, shrugging, “Alternatively, it could also be about how Jake’s a pining id--” 

  
  


The pining idiot in question squeals something inhumane at his cousin, lunging forward to grab the younger man into a headlock. The prince laughs merrily, despite being roughhoused, and Dave really,  _ really _ would like a refund on his life. 

  
  


“Brother,” the female dersites finally make it to the place where the rest of the monarchs seem to be congregating, and Rose is the one that speaks first, “You’re looking rather dashing in your new outfit.” 

  
  


“So many compliments, so little time,” Dave answers, pressing a hand to his chest to try and stop his beating heart, “Custom made for me by an incredibly talented seamstress--I think her name rhymes with Yaya.” 

  
  


“Oh, don’t start, your grace,” Kanaya rolls her eyes, coming forward to fuss at this collar and sleeves, adjusting the garment to her desire, “Did everything fit alright? I wasn’t quite sure the shirt was the right size.” 

  
  


“They had some help!” Jade exclaims, excited to be a part of a conversation that was an increasingly louder round of fisticuffs going on behind her, “I used a little magic to make them fit, but they were pretty close anyways!” 

  
  


“Ah, I can’t thank you enough, your highness,” Kanaya bows, smiling pleasantly at the witch, “I assume the cloak is also your doing. I don’t remember designing it with Prospitian gold captain stripes.”

  
  


“A little gift from me to Sir Strider,” Jaden winks playfully, bumping her hip against Dave’s, and the knight laughs. “It’s good to see you! I hope your travels weren’t too tiresome.” 

  
  


“Oh, don’t worry, sweet cheeks,” Roxy finally snaps to attention from where she had been captivated by John and Jake’s fighting--that doesn’t seem to stop, “Oh, Davey! Look at you! So cute, so handsome, you’re  _ rocking _ that purple again and I’m  _ loving  _ it!” 

  
  


Dave preens under his older sister’s praise, and he lets himself be pulled into a hug when she asks for it. Her embrace is warm and familiar, accented by her sweet, cherry perfume she’s worn since they were kids. Over her shoulder, Dirk and Jane talk pleasantly with each other, and he wonders when someone’s gonna push Jake away from John. 

  
  


“Jade?” he asks, after he’s broken away from Roxy’s arms, “Give me a hand there?” 

  
  


Jade rolls her eyes, but she swishes her hand anyway, and the two cousins finally break apart. John is carried further away and closer to Dave’s side by the breeze (that sneaky little shit is everywhere) and Jake’s tossed to the ground unceremoniously because he’s dared attack the precious heir. That, and Jade’s repellant spell probably favored her brother more than it did her cousin, no matter how close those two were.

  
  


“Everything magic does seem to be unkind to you, your grace,” Dirk says, extending a gloved hand towards Jake, who takes it shakily, “The breeze, your cousin--I’m afraid of what your sister’s healing powers could do to you.” 

  
  


“Oh, he gets zapped, mostly,” Jane giggles into her hand. “Healed, but zapped.” 

  
  


“Mild electrocution is a small price to pay, I guess,” Jake shrugs, but his face is beet red--if because of Dirk or his fight with his cousin, Dave doesn’t want to guess, “It’s good to see you, your majesty. I’m glad to know you’ve made it.” 

  
  


“As did the rest of his family,” Rose adds, cheekily, and Jade bumps her fist on the downlow, “Thank you for asking about us, your grace. Your country has always been so hospitable.” 

  
  


That only makes Jake blush further, and Dave thinks he’s missed his family. 

  
  


// 

  
  


“Did you receive my letter?” 

  
  


Dave looks up from his extreme focus on the hilt of his sword to his brother’s figure closing in on him. He gives a tight nod. He really didn’t want to talk about this right now. 

  
  


“I think it’s time you came home,” Dirk says next, “I think it’s for the best.”

  
  


“I think you’re crazy,” Dave counters, “Is the crown too tight on your head, or what?” 

  
  


Dirk sighs, shoulders sagging forward, “Look, Dave, I know you’re scared,” (‘Rose’s visions are hardly ever incorrect’) “But you can’t keep hiding from whatever comes next. We don’t even know if we interpreted Rose’s dream correctly.” 

  
  


“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Dave tries to explain, “My duty is in Prospit now--I agree the house of Kord should be brought back to aid with the leadership of our ever-frail country, but I don’t fit in that picture.” 

  
  


The King of Derse surely has something more he wants to say, but he’s interrupted by an over-excitable ball of gold and bronze. John is bouncing so much that Dave thinks he’s already floating, but upon further inspection, he does notice his feet do hit the ground once again. There’s a vibrating happiness coursing through the heir’s body, and the knight wonders what happened that made his prince so incredibly happy like this. 

  
  


“Dave, there you are!” the man says, “I have something I want to show you! It’s very important!” 

  
  


He makes it sound like it’s a lie, but Dave knows his best friend is incapable of such a thing. He’s a shitty actor, and thus a shitty liar, but Dirk doesn’t know the prospitian prince quite as well, and the look his amber eyes give his younger brother is enough to tell Dave what the monarch is thinking. 

  
  


Dave doesn’t care. 

  
  


“Duty calls, brother,” the knight says, passing by the king’s side and patting his shoulder, “We’ll talk later.” 

  
  


“We leave at noon tomorrow.” 

  
  


Dave nods, “So, we’ll talk in the morning.” 

  
  


He doesn’t get to hear his brother’s answer before John is taking his hand and pulling him through the crowds of stuffy party-goers. Dave spots his twin sister, Kanaya by her side, and a freckled, red-headed man that looks uncomfortable under their scrutiny. He’s wearing Canalog’s trademark red and gold, and behind him, a man in dark blue stands guard. Prince of Canalog, he’s pretty sure, and the knight assigned for his safety. 

  
  


Jane and Roxy are gossiping away on a table, sharing secret laughs and flighty whispers that are drawn out by the rest of the party. A few ways from their secret meeting, Jade is all but dragging her cousin in the general direction of one pissed-off Dirk Lalonde. Dave feels for Jake. He hopes he hasn’t made his brother angry enough to get pissy at the poor Prospitian duke. 

  
  


He loses sight of everyone after John pulls him towards the balcony, waving a short hand at King James and his brother, Duke Jacob, who are talking in the same manner Jane and Roxy were. The king of Prospit laughs a merry laugh, and waves back at the poor knight being dragged by his son to the outside. 

  
  


The air outside is chilly, but his dersite cloak and John’s hand in his is enough to warm him up. Before the knight can ask his prince where he’s taking him, the breeze picks up rather violently around them, and his feet leave the ground. Dave lets out a strained yelp, and tightens his hold around John’s hand, watching as the ground becomes smaller and smaller the further they go up. 

  
  


“Don’t be such a baby!” John yells over the roar of the wind, “The breeze won’t let you fall!” 

  
  


Dave tries to say that that’s not the point, but his voice dies out in his throat. The prince laughs happily and steers them towards the highest place of his cousins’ home. 

  
  


When Dave’s feet are on solid  _ something _ again (because the roof of a small sized castle was  _ not _ solid ground) he lets out a shaky breath and tells himself not to look down. Next to him, the heir stretches his arms out (taking one of his hands with his) and yells. 

  
  


“I swear on the primordial gods, John!” Dave exclaims, “What is wrong with you?” 

  
  


“You looked like you needed help getting away from your brother.” 

  
  


“So you brought me to the top of the castle?” Dave’s voice goes an octave higher, and John smiles fondly at him, cheeks flushed with the wind and the cold, “How is that a superior strategy to simply asking me to dance?” 

  
  


“Well,” John taps his chin, like he’s thinking really hard about it, “Dirk can’t fly.” 

  
  


Dave blinks at his prince, once, twice, three times, “Why are you like this?” 

  
  


“And also,” John continues, smiling impishly like he does when he’s about to pull a prank on Dave, and his hands curl into the fabric of the knight’s cloak, “I can do this.” 

  
  


Before Dave can advise him against throwing him off the goddamn building, John’s lips are on his, and the wind roars in his ears. It takes him a while, but Dave finally melts into the softness of the kiss. His arms come to wrap around the heir’s waist, relishing the sensation of having the man so close to him out in the open, under the stars, and Dave’s worries wash away. 

  
  


His brother wants him back in Derse? Fuck that. John’s been almost killed twice already in the span of a month? Dave didn’t have to care about that so up in the air. The possibility of John being shoved into an arranged marriage like the one Rose had cried about to him in her letters? They’ll get there when they get there. The Darkness was slowly spreading out of Ciaróg and into the rest of the land? It couldn’t get them up here. 

  
  


The world could end tomorrow for all he cared. John was here, safe in his arms, and they were both safe from the world on top of the highest part of the castle of Zon. As his feet leave the solidity of the roof one more time, Dave doesn’t worry, and knows that the breeze will always be there to catch him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! Hopefully the ending doesn't seem too rushed. Since this was only the prequel to a longer story, I couldn't help myself and ended up adding some small plot bunnies that will (hopefully) get explained whenever I do write this AU. Here are some notes for this fic: 
> 
> -I only cared for about 30 seconds about proper royalty titles. Given the bloodlines in this story, Jane and Jake should NOT even be addressed as Duchess and Duke, because even if their dad still kept the Duke of Zon title, they'd be Marquis and Marchioness. Nevermind that, Jacob Egbert (Dad Crocker) should not have been able to keep his title when John and Jade were born. Jade would not technically be a princess either, she'd be a duchess, and when John has kids (if he ever does) she'd be stripped of her title entirely. The Strilonde family has a much more accurate hierarchy. Dirk as the king with no children, his only "heiress" would be Roxy, which would make her heir aparent and princess of Derse. Rose is the older twin, so she'd be Duchess, and Dave would technically have to be Marquis. I really, literally, absolutely do not care about historical accuracy as you can see. 
> 
> -I always make Jade older. The fact that she doesn't become heir of Prospit stems from the single reality that she is, first and foremost, Prospit's most powerful magic user and, as such, has her own royal duties to attend to. She came into her powers very early, so she's never really had a taste for the throne, so to speak. John thinks she would make a wonderful queen, but she knows (from a very credible source) that he'll be a kind and fair monarch to Prospit. Jane and Jake are also older, but they were born to the younger Egbert twin, and so they get to be Duke and Duchess instead. 
> 
> -If anyone knows welsh or celtic or any of the other languages I've stolen from for this fic, I'm genuinely sorry about my overuse of random words for the cities. Zon = sun, Ciaróg = beetle, Canalog = central, and Lúa = moon, for all you curious folks out there. 
> 
> -Acheros, the name I've given to the Sufferer (the Alternian ancestors are separate entites to their Beforan counterparts, Kankri should be around here somewhere) means "river of suffering" which I think is very on point for him. Damijan, the name I've given to the Grand Highblood (who I'm terrified of), means "to tame, to subdue, to kill" which I also think it's very accurate. I chose Beatrix for HIC because Betty Crocker? I literally don't have any other reasons. Beatrix traditionally means "traveller" or "foreigner" which can also work in the context she's presented. 
> 
> -Trolls are 100% trolls in this fic. No humanstuck for us. This is fantasy AU, they deserve to have horns. I'm genuinely sorry I don't even mention it anywhere, I promise to do better. 
> 
> -Like my beta told me a couple of days ago, I literally sprinkled in the fact that I write DC fanfic on this, because King Allen? That's Barry Allen. The prince Rose is meant to marry? Bart Allen. The prince's knight? Jaime Reyes. I just finished bluepulse week last week, and Dave made a cameo appearance in 4 out of 6 of the days I wrote, so I thought it was only fair that I returned the favor on JohnDave week. The Duke of Ciaróg is also a DC character, I'm so sorry. I also won't lie, this entire thing is meant to be a crossover AU and I can't and won't be stopped. 
> 
> -Yaya is my favorite nickname for Kanaya. I read it once upon a time in another JohnDave fic and I? Fell in love. Also, yes, you can assume Rosemary is a thing in this AU even if it wasn't mentioned, implied or explicitly said. That's what they deserve. 
> 
> -I swapped out the horrorterrors for "primordial gods". If I ever do write this AU you guys will figure it out what their relevance is. Derse has a lot of stories about them. 
> 
> -The breeze as a sentient being is directly influenced by the speedforce in DC comics. Like I said, I really just came out of bluepulse week and my head is FULL. But I like the idea of the connection to the breeze being a family thing, so Dad Egbert also gets a little control over it, as a treat. John doesn't quite know how to use his connection to his advantage yet, either, that comes later. For now, the breeze is just very playful and likes Dave a lot because John likes Dave a lot. 
> 
> I guess that's all for me! Thank you for reading through all this, if you've made it this far! Merry JohnDave week!


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